by Don Foxe
His dress was also to make sure others, those from Osperantue and from Fell, recognized he was military, not diplomat. He intended the clothing to act as a physical barrier, as he rebuilt his emotional barrier.
He took his seat in the cockpit, and keyed the communications mike. “Star Gazer, this is Captain Cooper.”
“Yes, Captain,” came an immediate reply. Someone had made sure coms were being monitored in case he called. He was quite certain they were not expecting contact from anyone else in this solar system.
“Would you ask Captain Poonch if he could meet me on your bridge in thirty minutes?”
“The Captain agrees, Captain Cooper.” Another quick response. Poonch was obviously near the coms station.
“Thank you, Coms. Could you locate the Fellen, and ask if they could join us at the same time?”
“The Fellen are seated on the deck beneath your ship, Captain. Do you want me to contact them, or would you prefer to do so?”
“I’ll handle it, thank you Coms. Cooper out.”
Cooper left the cockpit, closing, and locking the door behind him. He activated the lift, sending it down for the women.
“We have a meeting with Captain Poonch on the bridge in twenty-five minutes,” he said. “Is this a problem?”
Two negative head shakes.
“I know you could have bypassed the codes and entered without my permission. I appreciate being given the time alone.”
Two slight shrugs, the ‘no problem, anytime’ kind of gesture. Funny how body language was more universal than language-language.
“Are you two okay?” he asked, beginning to worry about the silent treatment.
“Well,” Sky began. “Well, you kind of look dangerous . . .”
“And very edible,” Storm added with a tiny smile.
“And we don’t want to do anything to make you angrier,” Sky added.
“Or jump you because we only have enough time to get to the bridge,” Storm finished.
In spite of everything, every lecture he gave himself, every promise regarding remaining military, and structured, strict and distant. In spite of every damn thing which had happened, he smiled. That broke the ice. Sky and Storm fell into his arms, and there was one big group hug.
Pushing them away, gently, he said: “Let’s go.”
He hoped his menacing appearance would have a better effect on the Captain, and others aboard the Star Gazer, than it had on the Fellen. He did not think he would survive a group hug with 240,000 aliens.
Chapter 21
They arrived five minutes early for the meeting with Captain Poonch. He met them on the command bridge and led them to a side chamber, the Star Gazer’s equivalent to C-Tac aboard the 109.
Everyone along the path to the command sphere, everyone on the command sphere, and those on the bridge noticed, and noted Captain Cooper’s appearance. Eyes travelled from the stern face to the combat dress. He knew eyes lingered longest on his sheathed blade. The knife was an archaic weapon to most, and therefore deadlier looking.
If Poonch had been planning on giving him a dressing down for his actions in the bay, he held it in. He asked politely, “How can I help you, Captain Cooper?”
The four of them sat at a table designed for ten. They took seats at one end, Captain Poonch at the head of the table, with Cooper on his right, and the two Fellen on his left. With his guests dressed in battle black, the blue and white clad Poonch must have felt more than a little awkward. He handled himself well though, garnering points from Cooper, since Poonch was a cruise ship captain, and not a military commander.
“Their conditions?” Cooper asked.
Poonch knew who he was inquiring about, and played no games. “One has a broken jaw, and several teeth missing. He is in serious but stable condition. One still unconscious with brain swelling. Not sure when he will wake up, or if he will wake up. One who will never sire children. Swollen and in shock. Critical, because the surgery required to recover his testicles was difficult. One dead.”
“The girl and her mother?”
“Both moved to a cabin in the command sphere. Both have had medical attention. Both had lots of bruising, but nothing broken. The girl is young and was a virgin. There is physical and emotional trauma. We have a therapist aboard who is willing to speak with the girl when, and if, she decides she needs to talk.”
“Thank you for taking care of them,” Cooper said. It was an honest appreciation of the Captain’s actions, again raising his approval rating of the Bosine.
“I am ashamed of what happened under my watch,” Poonch admitted, “I would have done anything, and everything for those two women.”
“Understood,” Cooper replied. “Sir, with all due respect, within a few minutes of my altercation with those four, a security detail arrived. Obviously you have closed circuit monitors aboard this ship. Why wasn’t anything done when the mother was attacked, and her daughter taken?”
Poonch sighed, and his shoulders drooped. The weight of his world beginning to wear the officer down. “We escaped Osperantue with a skeleton crew, Captain. We cannot watch every location. More turmoil occurs aboard my ship, than I am aware. A crew member happened to see a monitor showing your fight. It was luck only. Since I could not know the cause of the fight, I sent crew members down to intercede. As you may know, my people were unable to get past the crowd.”
“Captain, I was in a rage. I don’t know if that translates. I was so angered by the attack on the girl, I could not, no, I DID not think. I acted, and I allowed anger and disgust to rule my response. I want you to know, I do not excuse my actions. While saving the girl was the correct thing, beating the bully to death was wrong. In my rage, had your crew members tried to intervene, they would also have been harmed. I’m sure not to the extent of the four who beat the mother and abducted her daughter, but still, it would not have been pretty.”
Captain Poonch leaned forward, trying to analyze Captain Cooper. For the first time, honestly appraising this Earther. “You could have stopped a dozen of my crew?”
“Yes,” Cooper said, and Sky and Storm echoed the word. Poonch turned to the women.
Sky said to him, ”Captain Poonch, you know the skill Fellen possess, both in technology, and in hand-to-hand combat?”
“Of course,” Poonch replied. “The galaxy is aware, you do not cross a Fellen, and why.”
“Captain, I promise you this, if a dozen Fellen males in the prime of their lives tried to intervene, Captain Cooper could have bested them.”
Whether taken by awe, or plain old-fashion fear, Poonch looked at the human with renewed respect. Such a comment from a Fellen was not taken lightly.
“This is important, Captain,” Cooper said, bringing the conversation to where he wanted it, and away from the fight. “I will defend your ship against the Zenge, or any other species who would attack it. The people of Earth will always protect and defend those who need it, especially from attacks by bullies, gangs, or a hoard of star ships.
“I give you my word as a fellow officer, the rage you saw in the bay will not compare to the rage the Zenge will face. From what I have learned in these last three days, they are a plague infecting the galaxy.
“Someone must stop them. I cannot speak for Space Flee,t or the people of Earth, but I know their hearts. We will figure out a way to fight the Zenge, and we will defeat them.”
“Captain Cooper, if you are an example of humans, then I have no fear you will do exactly what you say. What can I do to help?”
Cooper represented one of twelve out of four billion humans, but was not about to tell Poonch. He needed the Captain, his crew, and the 240,000 aboard the Star Gazer to maintain hope. They had little else, and the rape below was an indicator anarchy could soon follow. Cooper knew the signs. After the Eastern Pandemic, which resulted in more than half of the Earth’s population perishing, anarchy was a way of life for the billions left alive. The erosion of morals, and disdain for law came on quick, and easy. It took a str
ong hand, and a lot of forceful exhibitions of power to regain control. Neither the mass panics, nor the aftermath — anarchy or the fight to return sanity — were pretty.
“Find refugees who can watch monitors, or handle simple crew functions. Train them enough to make them serviceable, and allow your main crew rest.”
Cooper continued. “Give the people on those overcrowded decks access to alarms. If something bad happens, let them tell you. Don’t hope a monitor is being watched in a moment of need. I know you have 800 decks, plus the hangars, and service areas. Your people don’t come across as the types to trip alarms for no reason. It would provide them extra security, and perhaps a sense of relief.”
“You make sense, Captain. Much of it I should have already thought of,” Poonch said, without pride. Weary.
“Captain Poonch, have you ever served in your world’s military?” Cooper asked.
“Our world has not had a true military in a thousand years,” the Bosine replied. “We have a few police and security, and a space guard, which is more to assist than to arrest.”
“Then please take this from a man who has served in the military his entire adult life.” Coop allowed the comment to sink in before continuing. “You have done a remarkable job under incredibly difficult conditions. You have saved your ship and hundreds of thousands of your fellow people. You have saved the lives of the two Fellen sitting here, and escaped the Zenge, not once, but twice. If you were human, you would receive our highest medals for honor and bravery.”
Poonch might not know what medals were, but Coop could tell he caught the gist. There was a straightening to his spine, and a swelling of his chest. Perhaps a swelling of his eyes, too.
“Captain Cooper, is there anything more we can do . . . I can do?”
“Keep your ship on course and your people safe, Captain. Exactly what you have been doing. The John F. Kennedy will return in a few more days, and then our options become more numerous, and more obvious.” Cooper stood, and the other three, even the seemingly mute Fellen, stood with him. Coop faced Poonch, came to attention and snapped a salute, fingers to bridge of cap, ramrod straight. Poonch had no idea what to do, but quickly mimicked the Earther’s action, lifting his double-digits to his brow. Cooper snapped the salute down and said, “Captain, it is an honor to serve with you.”
With fences mended before they could actually fall down, Cooper, Sky and Storm left the Captain a much happier Bosine than the one they found.
They made it off the bridge, down the hallway, and into the lift before Storm could no longer contain her giggles.
“You gave the entire ship hope,” she said, a mix of admiration and mirth in her tone. Then she gave him her signature tilt and added, “I hope your people come through.”
“So do I,” he agreed, more tired now than he had been after the fight below decks, which had occurred after the sparring session with Sky and Storm.
When they entered the Fellen’s cabin, the furniture was rearranged. The two beds pushed together, and the table they ate and strategized around pushed against the wall where a bunk once sat.
“Redecorating?” he asked.
Sky smiled, and Storm giggled again. “We thought it more comfortable. You need to rest. We intend to provide the effort.”
Cooper was going to protest. He was. Really. He was going to tell them they were going too far too fast. They needed to slow down, gain perspective. He was going to say these words, and leave for a night alone aboard the Angel 7, but, damn if they didn’t pull their tops off at the same time. Faced with the prospect of both, he decided surrender was a better option. Yep, surrender was his only option.
At least by starting now, he might get a full six hours of sleep. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe, suddenly, he did not care.
Chapter 22
A sound woke Cooper. Not anything that startled him awake. Nothing that indicated any danger. He lay sandwiched on the pushed-together bunks, with Sky on his front, and Storm spooning behind him. It was not a noise from them.
There it was again. Not a noise, but a voice. He could not understand what it wanted. Then he realized it came over the cabin’s speakers, and he also realized he was not wearing his translation ring. Whoever was talking also did not have a ring.
He wiggled enough to loosen the covers, and arched his body over Sky, who was closest the edge of the bunk, then slipped onto the deck, making sure the blankets stayed snug over the two still sleeping. His translator rested on the table near his utility-weapons belt and cap. He snapped it on, then said, “This is Cooper.”
“Captain Cooper,” the voice now making complete sense, “Captain Poonch urgently requests your presence on the command bridge, sir.”
“On the way,” he replied. Moving quickly, and trying to retain the quiet, he dressed in yesterday’s black fatigues, slipped on his boots, left his weapon, and cap where they lay, and exited the cabin. The two women had snuggled in closer to each other for warmth, but neither opened an eye, or noted his departure.
He quick-timed it down the hallway to the lift, and was on the bridge of the Star Gazer in less than four minutes.
The bridge of the cruise ship was busier than he had ever seen. Every station staffed, and every monitor, and computer system on and operating. He knew Poonch had not had time to act on his suggestion of getting civilians to assist, so these were crew members. He also recognized the tension in the air. These people were focused and anxious.
Poonch stood looking over the shoulder of a crew member who was monitoring a screen, and adjusting touch sensitive pads with both hands. A second crew member, seated adjacent to the one being watched by the ship’s captain, nudged Poonch, and made him aware of Coop’s presence.
Poonch waved Cooper over.
“Ships are coming through the wormhole gate,” Poonch said.
They were now four days away from the gate. Was it far enough?
Poonch continued: “We do not know how many, not at this distance, but it appears, perhaps six or seven. We do not think we have been scanned yet. I have had every non-essential system on the ship turned off or muted. My hope is if we make as little signature as possible, we may be far enough away to be confused as more space debris. I have also stopped engines. Running at this time makes little sense. Hiding makes more sense.”
The Earth captain said nothing. Poonch was making smart decisions, and it was his ship. Coop simply nodded his understanding, and his mute agreement. There was no place between Pluto and Neptune they could use to conceal their presence. The only option was to maintain a low profile, and hope at this range, they would go unnoticed.
“We will drift, and wait, and watch,” Poonch said.
“Will they pick up your scans?” Cooper asked.
“We are simply using highly evolved optics now. We were a cruise ship, and bringing spectacular views to our customers was our pride. The Star Gazer is literally a star gazer, designed to go to beautiful and unusual places in space, and provide those booking passage views which were unparalleled.” (Sales pamphlet stuff, nonetheless, impressive.)
Poonch turned and looked around his bridge and crew. “Once our aft scans picked up the gate opening, we used our scanning technology enough to find out as much information as possible. When the first ship exited, we continued to scan for another few minutes. Our scan signatures were lost in the disruption which occurs at a gate entrance when the two types of space, natural and wormhole, collide. As soon as we thought the last ship had exited, and the gate began to close, we shut down operations, started to drift, and turned on our optics.”
“Impressive, Captain,” Cooper said to the Bosine.
“Self-preservation,” the Bosine replied, and continued, “We are now 3,800,621 miles from the gateway. Our optics are good. If they move in our direction we will see everything much clearer. At this range, their systems may or may not pick us out of space. It depends on how good their technology is, and how unlucky we are.”
“How long will you drift?” C
oop asked.
“If they cannot locate us and leave, or if they start in our direction, there is no longer any point in drifting. I will start engines, and push as hard and fast as I can. But, Captain Cooper, if they find us, and they chase, they will catch us within four or five days.”
“Roger that,” Cooper said, falling into Fleet-speak. “I’m going to get my ship prepped, in case we need her for cover. I’ll ask Sky and Storm [Poonch looked at him questioning the names] -- ASkiilamentrae is SKY, and AStermalanlan is STORM. I prefer shorter names. It makes it easier to communicate, especially in battle.”
Poonch nodded. Maybe he understood or maybe not. He did not comment one way, or the other.
“I will send Sky and Storm to the bridge. They are the communications and technology experts, so maybe they have ideas to enhance your systems.”
“They were quite helpful when we first took them aboard, Captain Cooper,” Poonch said. “In the month’s before reaching your solar system, they turned our civilian systems into highly functional military-grade hardware and upgraded the software. Without these changes we would have been unable to monitor the wormhole gate from this distance. Honestly, it was Sky who taught me about the distortions that occur at wormhole gates and natural space, and the time available for electronic scanning before it would become detectable.”
The amiable Bosine gave a small shake of his head before continuing.
“Having said that, and appreciating what they have already done, Fellen do not give away their knowledge. I am sure they could do more to enhance our systems, and perhaps now, with you aboard, they might.”
“I’m sure they will do everything they can.” Cooper assured him. “Please let me know if anything changes.” With nothing more to accomplish, he took his leave from the bridge. Since he was not wearing his cap, he did not salute the ship’s captain, and since the captain had no idea of the protocols of Earth’s military meeting and greeting rituals, it did not matter.
He returned to the cabin. Sky and Storm still snuggled under the covers, and he thought briefly about rejoining them. Instead he undressed, this time his clothes actually made it onto a chair folded, and not rumpled and tossed on the deck. He entered the tight shower stall. One-second of spray, and he realized the Star Gazer’s systems were indeed off line, because the water, normally barely warm, was freezing.